


So Very Wrong

by orphan_account



Series: Getting to Oh, God, Yes [2]
Category: due South
Genre: Bottoming, Consent Issues, Dubious Consent, First Time, Guilt, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Rough Sex, Shame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 18:52:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Amirite?"  Makes little-to-no-sense without that story for context.</p><p>Ray Vecchio decides denial is not working out for him.  After some half-baked negotiating with Kowalski, he'll finally get what he wants but hates wanting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Very Wrong

That first time, when Kowalski kissed him and wouldn’t take “no” for an answer, and frankly it was not really the answer Ray wanted to give him anyway, they actually hadn’t done a whole lot.  Kowalski had gotten in Ray’s personal space, and then kissed him with force and power.  And, in his mind, Ray thinks he should have kissed back with equal force and power, but he didn’t, he relaxed into it, let Kowalski dominate him.  And Kowalski read that as permission, took Ray’s actions over his words, and started groping his ass, brushing his knuckles against the seam of Ray’s pants over his asshole, making Ray pant, making Ray moan, making Ray come at the thought of the promise, the threat, of Kowalski’s hand being right there.

Ray had panicked; he’d just come in his pants from being kissed and groped over his clothes.  That was barely first base and he was shamefully done.  He’d pulled away from Kowalski, whose face was either vulpine or lupine, sly like a fox, predatory like a wolf, and Ray knew his eyes were as wide as they’d ever been, total deer in the headlights and his metaphors were not the only things that were all mixed up about him.  “Gotta go,” he barked out, and fled.

Later, he’d replay that moment of strategically necessary cowardice in his mind, and what struck him was the sudden change in Kowalski’s expression.  In that split second before Ray had turned his back to get the fuck out of Dodge, Kowalski’s wolfish foxface had transformed, and while he obviously still had arousal going on, it was tempered not with anger that Ray was leaving him hanging but with something that looked an awful lot like concern. 

Ray didn’t like to think of that expression, any more than he liked to think about those times, in the weeks leading up to him going off like a teenager, fully clothed on Kowalski’s couch, when Kowalski would kiss him with tenderness and affection and what Ray, when he allowed himself to think about it at all, could only label as acceptance.

Ray didn’t want any of that from Kowalski.  Where the fuck did Kowalski get off, accepting Ray?  What gave him the right to judge Ray and find him anything but pathetic?  Ray sure as hell wasn’t going to cut himself any slack.  Because Ray wanted, _burned_ for Kowalski, and not just in a general sense.  He wanted Kowalski’s cock inside him, in his mouth maybe, but definitely in his ass.  And he wasn’t supposed to want that.  Guys in the neighborhood, sure a lot of them would slip out on their wives with their buddies, but nobody took it up the ass.  Nobody.  And if they did, they went out of the neighborhood, or better yet out of town, out of _state_ and did that shit with total strangers.

And the dreams, the late-at-night-thoughts that he pretended were dreams when they really were not, the ones where he imagined Kowalski with Fraser until Fraser became Ray himself, and at first Kowalski was cool toward him, and touched Ray with near indifference until Ray came (and while he was coming, he could hear Kowalski’s stupid flat Chicago vowels, no hint of Italy in his voice at all, saying “You’re welcome” in a voice that was just barely on the non-insulting side of sarcastic contempt) and hearing that, in his mind, wrung a last little bit of pleasure out of his orgasm.  And the next time he stopped by the 2-7, Frannie dropped a giant stack of files on Kowalski’s desk, and Kowalski kidded her, saying, “You’re welcome, Ray” on her behalf, and that was it for Ray at the 2-7 that day, he scampered back to the 2-3 and somehow made it through the rest of the day without jerking off.

But when he got home, he jerked off before dinner, and that night, he put his hands against his ass, pressing slightly in with one dry fingertip and even that was enough to send him over the edge.  _You’re welcome, Ray._

After that, his dreams, his genuinely-asleep dreams, were full of Kowalski, Kowalski was everywhere, and he was full of Kowalski, and it was literally a slippery slope, because before long he was using his jerk-off lube to ease first one, then two then even three fingers into himself.  Each time a little more girth, a little more depth, and each time was even better than the last.  And they were the best orgasms he’d ever given himself, and afterward he’d pound his fist against the sheet, and maybe even sometimes against his own thigh, because he wasn’t like that, he couldn’t be like that, that wasn’t who he was, he could never be that person. 

But after nearly two weeks, he’s ready to face the music.  He goes back to Kowalski’s apartment, and Kowalski looks at him neutrally, not angry, not surprised, just…waiting.  “I owe you an apology,” Ray tells him.  “I left you hanging, and we’re both guys here and we know that it’s just not right.”

Kowalski studies Ray.  “Here I was, thinking I owed you an apology,” he says carefully.  “I’m okay with being left high and dry if my partner is having a freak-out.  And I pushed where you didn’t want me too, and that’s much worse than blue-balling a guy.”

Ray turns slightly away from Kowalski, focusing on the chili lights.  “I wanted you to...wanted you,” he admits, breaking off before saying what he really wanted Kowalski to do.  “I’ve just…there’s stuff I didn’t know, I swear I didn’t know this about myself, and it’s….”

Ray can see Kowalski nodding in his peripheral vision.  “And now that you do?”  Kowalski’s keeping the neutral tone, letting Ray dictate what, if anything, he wants this to be.  Needs this to be.  And Ray may not want to have the desires he has, but he can’t take Kowalski’s tenderness and concern. 

“I just…it’s not what I grew up with, it’s not what I ever imagined for myself, and I need you to get me through it, to _push_ me through it, and when I say no, you need to ignore that, you need to keep going, because that’s the only way I can do this.”

“Look at me,” Kowalski says, and Ray chooses to interpret it as a command, although it’s really not.  Kowalski looks concerned, which Ray absolutely does not need to see, and a little turned on, which Ray absolutely does need to see.  “If you’re telling me ‘no,’ but it really means yes, what does the real ‘no’ sound like?”

And Ray wants to say that there is no “real no” here, but he knows that Kowalski won’t accept that, and he really wants to get this show on the road.  “I’ll start talking about my dad,” he tells Kowalski.  He’s not sure what Fraser’s told Kowalski about Ray’s father, but he catches a quick wince as it chases across Kowalski’s face and guesses it was enough.  And Ray’s heard about safewords and like that, but he’s never thought he would need one, it’s not like Kowalski is his master or whatever, but Kowalski’s going to be in charge.  And most of the insults Ray’s been hearing in his head have been in his own voice, but in the darkest hours they’ve been his father’s, and if he starts hearing that while Kowalski’s giving it to him, a line will definitely have been crossed.

“Okay, then,” Kowalski says.  “I’m in charge, you want to be pushed past ‘no’ and if fathers come up, game over.”  Ray nods, and he feels a little bit sick and a lot turned on that this is finally going to happen.

Kowalski makes short work of getting Ray in his arms, and he’s kissing him again, forceful, dominant, no trace of tenderness and it’s so much what Ray needs that he moans into Kowalski’s mouth and just takes it.  Kowalski’s tongue makes a few exploratory dips, and Ray tilts his head back, which is really unnecessary, they’re both essentially the same height, but it’s the surrender he needs to give Kowalski.  Kowalski starts thrusting his tongue into Ray’s mouth; it’s a surrogate for Kowalski’s cock, and Ray’s mouth is a surrogate for his ass.  Ray hadn’t anticipated this, but it's good, it's kind of the whole _point_ , and his own reaction surprises him.  He doesn’t push away, with either his body or his own tongue, but instead, nearly instinctively, sucks at Kowalski’s tongue, using his mouth to provide the same suction and pressure he really, really wants to be giving to Kowalski’s cock.

And Ray knows he’s moaning, but Kowalski’s growling, and that’s making Ray even harder, making him leak, making him start to worry about coming in his pants. Again.  Kowalski pulls away for air, and they’re both panting and Ray can’t stop himself from saying, “Anything, Jesus, anything you want, just take it, take _me_ ” and where the fuck is this shit coming from? 

Kowalski looks like he’s trying to pull himself together, and he gives a couple of quick nods and pulls Ray over to the rug, pulling him down, turning him over so that Ray’s on his hands and knees, Kowalski’s hands smoothing down his sides.  “It’s gonna be like this, gotta be like this,” Kowalski says, telling, not asking.  Except that he is asking, because they’re both still fully clothed and Kowalski’s hands are moving with rough urgency, but lightly.  _No pressure here_ , Ray thinks wildly. 

“Just fuck me already, Kowalski,” he says, and there’s a pause.  Ray closes his eyes and in his mind, the pause is because Kowalski is gathering his resources to pounce because the possibility that Kowalski’s hesitation is anything other than selfish is too much to bear. 

Kowalski’s hands slide around to Ray’s belt, and his movements are rough and now there is pressure, Kowalski manipulating Ray’s belt off and grabbing at Ray’s cock with a casually rough authority that nearly has Ray coming until Kowalski says, “Don’t.”  And somehow that stops him from coming but also makes him even hotter for what’s happening, what’s about to happen.

Kowalski’s shoving Ray’s pants and shorts down, lifting up one knee and the other, but leaving everything bunched up around Ray’s calves.  He feels foolish when Kowalski moves away for a few moments, but also hears sounds that indicate that Kowalski, at least, is on the ball about supplies.  And in case he hadn’t caught that, Kowalski deliberately puts the lube and condom on the floor, up away from where they’ll be needed but where Ray can see them.  Ray feels a few more seconds of cold exposure while Kowalski shoves his own clothes out of the way, and Jesus, they’re not even going to take off their shoes for this?  What kind of slut is Ray, that his first time is going to be this fast?

Of course, Ray knows exactly what kind of a slut he is, and while he may not be happy about it, this is it, this is perfect and stupid Kowalski is actually some kind of fucking genius, running one hand roughly up Ray’s spine to the back of his neck, which Kowalski squeezes gently in a gesture that’s still pure dominance.  Then Kowalski uses that hand to grab the lube and condoms and Ray thinks, _Finally_ , which is stupid because he arrived on Ray’s doorstep no more than twenty minutes ago at the absolute most.

Kowalski’s lubed fingers are probing at Ray’s asshole, and it’s a thousand times better than doing it to himself, because Kowalski’s got the angle, he’s got more than one kind of leverage on Ray, and Kowalski knows exactly what he’s doing, and what he’s going to do next, and Ray really does not.

There’s nothing going on, so far, that Ray hasn’t done to himself, Kowalski’s got two fingers in there, and, oh, shit, that is new, that is different, because Kowalski’s deeper than Ray’s ever managed, and he’s finding Ray’s prostate, which Ray also has never managed.  And it feels so good, so much better than just the fullness he thought he was looking for and that it feels better also makes the whole thing feel worse, but he’s almost, but not quite, past shame.

Kowalski’s fingers are gone, and Ray groans partly from the loss and partly from anticipation.  “Not gonna make you wait,” Kowalski says.  “Not gonna make _us_ wait.” And suddenly, Kowalski’s cock is right there, just the tip, and Kowalski says, voice rough, “Just take a deep breath and bear down,” and Ray thinks _Fuck that shit_ and shoves himself back against Kowalski.

“Fuck!” Kowalski practically howls in surprise, grips at Ray’s hips tightly, then says, harshly, “Don’t do that!”  Ray’s about to protest, to argue that if he’s the one getting impaled, why can’t he have some say in how it happens?  But that’s not exactly what he told Kowalski he wanted, but he’s being more eager, not less, and that’s gotta be a good thing, right?  And then Kowalski’s grip loosens and Ray realizes that his sudden movement nearly knocked them both over and apart, and he’s grateful for Kowalski’s strength and quick reflexes because apart is definitely not part of the plan.

“Sorry,” he says.  “Got a little enthusiastic.”

“I’m driving,” Kowalski says curtly, and Ray’s mind is back where it needs to be when Kowalski starts pushing into him. 

And nothing could have really prepared him for this.  When he’d pushed back, he’d been so surprised at his own boldness, and Kowalski’s quick reaction, that he hadn’t really processed what was happening to his body, which now seems impossible.  He’s nothing but his own ass, and that, not his cock, is the center of his desire.  And Kowalski is moving in him steadily, his motions almost inevitable, implacable, this was always going to happen, Ray was always going to be on Kowalski’s dick, and there was nothing he could have done to stop it, and denying it had been foolish, like yelling at the tide. 

Kowalski thrusts faster, but still in control, still in rhythm.  Ray’s babbling things now, “Please” and “God” and “Fuck me” and “Damnit” and just before he reaches “Too much, too goddamned much,” Kowalski snakes one hand over Ray’s cock, his cock that he’s barely even aware of, but a few quick pulls and he’s coming, cursing himself for wanting this so much, cursing Ray for making it so good that he knows he won’t be able to live if he can’t have this feeling again.

Kowalski comes with a choked moan, and it’s perfect because, in Ray’s head, Kowalski needs to be in control, can’t be as undone as Ray himself is, because someone needs to have his shit together and it sure as hell isn’t Ray. 

Kowalski’s slipping out of him and Ray slumps forward and to the side, his cock way too sensitive for contact with anything but the air.  He lets himself have a minute or two of pure bliss, of not worrying about how much more, how much better, how quickly this is becoming _indispensible_ to him.  And his first worry isn’t actually any of those things, but rather that Kowalski will ask for reassurance, ask if it was okay, if it was what he wanted.  Because that’s what Ray would ask a woman he’d slept with, the first time and probably most of the times after.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely.  “Thank you so fucking much,” and it’s what he’s feeling, this unwelcome gratitude, but it’s also a preemptive strike against Kowalski asking questions.

And Kowalski gets it, gets him, and just says, “You’re welcome, Ray.”

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to those who left comments elsewhere and kudos here. I expect I would have continued the story regardless, but knowing there was an interest helped quite a bit.


End file.
